Walking down the street, creating my own mist.
Watching her over the fleet, staring at cloud shift.
Blonde hair, white cast, blue eyes finding the essence.
I sang a song, down on my knees, she chuckle at my obsolescence.
Turned around came closer to me, gazing like an infant.
Trying to find-in, whether I am one miscreant.
She beamed at me, I was an impeccable bod.
Hold-in my hands, an innocent one, accepted me with nod.
Running over fields, embraced in each other looking at pity versent.
But, something was strange, she was silent.
A sudden hit, blood over my head and a broken feet.
I overlooked that, I was walking down the street.
~Nikhilesh Dubey
India